


flash

by Xaizar



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Flirting, Gen, Homoeroticism, Present Tense, Tattoos, just guys being dudes, the gay touchstarved experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28256265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xaizar/pseuds/Xaizar
Summary: Nyx, Prompto, and Gladio discuss tattoos.
Kudos: 6





	flash

**Author's Note:**

> i promise this isn;t a setup for sex  
> uh I kinda have a thing for tattoos. Can you tell

Prompto walks into the Citadel locker room to Gladio, shirtless. That’s not unusual, though. Prompto isn’t sure Gladio even owns a shirt. But who can blame him, looking like… looking the way he does?

The unusual part is the other man standing behind him, looking at his tattoo, lifting Gladio’s arm to get a better look at the bird’s head.

They turn as he opens the door, and, oh, shit—that’s Nyx Ulric, Hero of the Kingsglaive—even if that title is said more often in mockery than respect. Prompto knows he must look absolutely stupid right now, and decides to go for broke. “Should I leave you two alone?” he asks, his voice loaded with as many implications as he can fit.

Luckily, the joke lands well, and they laugh. 

“Nah,” Gladio replies. “Nyx just saw my tattoo in the showers; wanted to get a better look at it.”

“Yeah. Wanted to see how Lucis compares to Galahdian art,” Nyx adds.

Prompto nods along, and starts changing clothes. Behind him, they keep talking.

“Nice work.”

“Better be, cost a fortune.”

“What, of Daddy’s money?”

Gladio laughs. “Man, I’ve been getting paid for Shield stuff for years, now. Could retire in a decade.”

Prompto is, briefly, intensely jealous.

“Mm. Hey, who’s your artist?”

“Aiden, at Insomnia Inks. On King Street.”

They’re all quiet for a bit longer, and then:

“Hey, Prompto, you’ve got some ink too, right?” Gladio asks.

He freezes for a moment, and then comes back to his senses: oh, yeah, dumbass—Gladio was the second one to see it, when he’d shown up at Noct’s apartment, wrist covered in plastic wrap.

“Damn, are you even old enough for that?” Nyx asks.

“Well, I am _now,_ ” Prompto says, crooked smile, hoping they blow it off.

“Guess I’d be a hypocrite if I got mad about that. Got this one—” Nyx taps just under his left eye— “when I was twelve, I think.”

Prompto looks at him. “Do you have any other tattoos?”

“Sure, but you can’t see ‘em unless you buy my dinner first.” Nyx winks at him, and he flushes.

Gladio laughs. "Cradle robber." Prompto wishes he was strong enough to punch Gladio and not immediately die.

Nyx walks up to Prompto, and he pulls up his left sleeve, holds his wrist up for inspection. Nyx takes his forearm; turns it over to look at the other side. Prompto thinks he might combust. 

“Cute.” Which, not what he was hoping for, but he’ll take it. “Does it mean anything?”

“Nah. Just wanted anything. I picked it off the wall.”

“Ah, youth. Where’d you get it? Some hole-in-the-wall place?”

“Not sure I should tell you; dunno if it would pass a health inspection.” He forces an awkward laugh, and neither Gladio nor Nyx reciprocate. Of course he shouldn’t have told them; they’re, like, one step up from the cops.

He pulls his hand back and keeps changing. The other two leave, Gladio pulling on a hoodie. The tattoo on his right arm itches.

**Author's Note:**

> the title is just a reference to the kind of tattoo prompto has. like, pre-drawn stuff


End file.
